Musings of a Baby Boomer….

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Everything But the Rat Pack

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. However, when you’re me, it doesn’t really make any difference. Aside from lots of really good food and a tad more drinking than I’m used to (well, it sort of depends on your definition of tad), not a lot happened that would need to stay there. Between Bill, Bec, and I, only Bill came even close to needing to go to confession after being greeted by several women wearing pasties and wanting him to pay for a photo with them. While Bill was having a meet cute with women in pasties, Bec and I were eating delicious pastries. Not the same thing.

Entering the MGM Grand is like entering Disney World. On steroids. And in order to cheerfully hand over your five bucks for a bottle of water or your one hundred bucks for a steak, you have to prepare yourself in advance that you have entered another universe. A universe where you put a twenty dollar bill in a slot machine and walk away three minutes later, empty-handed. That’s why everyone sitting at a slot machine has a grim look on his or her face. And on the rare occasion that you hear that sound of a ringing bell indicating someone’s slot machine finally paid off, you see the grim looks get even grimmer. No one’s happy that the person next to them won.

Our best dining experience was dinner on our first night at a restaurant in the MGM Grand called Craft Steak. I really do love me a good old fashioned steak house. I’m not sure you could quite call this old fashioned seeings as the décor was contemporary and the French fries were seasoned with smoked paprika and sherry vinegar, but the food was tremendous. We had an ice-cold martini to open up our palate. Even Bill, a pretty committed beer or wine drinker, had a Jack-and-Coke. Wine, steaks, mashed potatoes, grits, and roasted cauliflower equals a satisfied stomach……

We didn’t just wake up one morning and say, “Let’s go to Las Vegas, Baby.” We had reason to go. A pretty darn good reason, in fact……

Bill and I have been following Jabbawockeez since we first saw them on America’s Got Talent in 2007. Though we are clearly not experts on any sort of urban dance, we both were drawn to the movement and the uniqueness of the group. We have a wee bit of familiarity with dance because our niece (Bec’s daughter Kate, who now goes by Jojo Diggs) is a professional dancer specializing in what I call urban dance. She calls it House, but try as I might, I simply can’t quite wrap my head around what that term means. Here’s a You Tube Video featuring Jojo Diggs that might interest you…..

The show has won several awards for being the best family entertainment in Las Vegas, and that recognition is well-deserved. We couldn’t have had a better time. It was lively, fun, and the dancing was soooo impressive.

Of course, my niece was the best. I say that without reserve despite the fact that as part of the group’s costume (and their trademark), they are entirely covered from head to toe, making it impossible to tell dancers apart – by design.

I could tell which one was her, however. I used to change her diapers.